


I don’t remember the last time my first time with someone required a safe word...

by anonymouslyme8



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Charles Xavier, Choking, Dominant Erik, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Unless...it grows its own plot (and that's been known to happen)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 21:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20319451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymouslyme8/pseuds/anonymouslyme8
Summary: Charles has been using his powers to tease Erik with sexual images. It had been to no avail, thus far, as Erik had made no indication that he was even receiving the telepathically projected thoughts.Oh, but he had.Erik pulls Charles into a tiny, unused room, and proves he's seen everything. In. Vivid. Detail.(Shameless smut. Dominant Erik/not-super-submissive Charles. Mild choking. Everything is VERY consensual.)





	I don’t remember the last time my first time with someone required a safe word...

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my goblin pile, and please enjoy this shiny garbage I lay before you. 
> 
> I know I'm late to the Cherik party, but sometimes it takes a rewatch for inspiration to...strike. As usual, I bring you PWP, shameless smut in oneshot format, in all of its un-Betaed glory. You're welcome. Leave any editing notes in the comments, and I'll try to fix it. It's my first mlm post, so if there are pronoun issues.... UGH. Unclear antecedents are the worst and I'm sorry.
> 
> Kudos and comments are my shining stars. Thanks, y'all.

Charles hadn’t expected Erik’s resolve to crumble, not today after all of this time. Erik had resisted the filthy images so long, Charles had begun to believe he would resist forever, that he simply wasn’t interested.

That was before Erik took him by the wrist and dragged him to the back room.

Erik’s fingers dug into Charles’s wrist, felt like bone against bone. Erik barely paused to open the door before shoving Charles through it, and the rush of blood to Charles’s fingertips when Erik let him go tingled like electricity.

Charles stumbled to a stop, half-crashing into the desk against the wall. The room was practically a closet, small, unused. The only furniture consisted of the desk and a broken chair, and a few forgotten papers and books lay scattered about. The nearest occupied room was in another corridor. Good. If things went according to plan, it might get loud.

Charles’s limbs felt heavy as he caught Erik’s gaze. Erik’s stare was downright predatory, and Charles was the mouse to his hawk. The difference was, of course, that Charles had flaunted his deliciousness to Erik, hoping he would be torn apart.

“Those images have been quite the show of your powers, Charles. If it were anyone else I doubt you’d approve.” Erik’s tone was dark, measured. Charles knew this was exactly the kind of thing Erik relished—an unrestrained show of mutant power. From his bearing, Erik would either scold Charles or fuck him viciously, and Charles preferred the latter.

Charles held the eye contact, absorbing the piercing energy and trying to ignore his growing erection. “I was beginning to wonder if you were getting my messages.”

Charles rose from his half-seated position on the desk, swaggering towards Erik. He could feel it when Erik’s gaze wavered, sweeping to Charles’s cock for just a moment. The corner of Charles’s lips turned up in a smirk, and Erik watched that, too.

Erik reached out as if to take Charles’s hand, and Charles offered his own in return. Charles hardly processed the touch of their fingers before his back hit the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Erik’s arms boxed Charles in, and Erik seemed to tower over him more than their three-inch height difference should allow. The metal on Charles’s person—buttons, zippers, watch—seemed to hum, warm but not hot, in the intensity of Erik’s presence.

“You’ve teased me,” Erik said, and one of his hands twisted in Charles’s hair, “taunted me…” Erik’s fingers tightened, pulling the strands until pleasure blurred with pain. “Dared me to defile you.”

The brush of Erik’s fingertips on Charles’s scalp afforded Charles involuntarily intense telepathic clarity. Despite his promise not to read Erik’s mind unbidden, he saw himself as the object of Erik’s hunger, saw his own neck stretched by the fist in his hair. Erik was entranced by the white, delicate flesh, and he strained to see the fremitus of Charles’s pulse beneath his skin.

Adrenaline flooded Charles, and he felt light-headed when the fight-or-flight tensed his body. Erik was dangerous. It thrilled Charles.

Clenching his jaw to stifle the smile that wanted to cross his lips, Charles tilted his chin up, daring Erik further.

“And now,” Erik said, leaning in, the humidity of his breath warming the scrolls of Charles’s ear, “you expect me to control myself. You expect me not to hurt you as I take what you have promised me. You expect me to share my pleasure with you.”

The groan escaped before Charles could conceal it. Charles wasn’t proud of the way Erik’s words and rough touch made his cock throb with need, but he also wouldn’t deny it. Charles shared the images that flashed through his head with Erik: Erik’s hand curling on his neck, denying him a deep breath, strangling his racing pulse, Erik crushing Charles’s mouth with his own…

Charles’s voice was breathy when he answered: “Erik, hurt me.”

Yanking Charles’s head back, Erik covered Charles’s mouth in an aggressive kiss. Erik’s free hand covered Charles’s throat, but Erik applied no pressure, instead devouring Charles like he was his first meal after being starved for a week. Charles stole breaths around Erik’s crushing lips, his fingers digging into Erik’s ass greedily. Erik’s erection pressed against Charles as they pulled each other closer, closer.

Touch enhanced Charles’s telepathic ability, and as he was undone by his growing arousal, his control slipped further. Erik’s arousal seemed to meld with Charles’s own as they kissed, and Charles could feel Erik’s cock straining at his zipper as clearly as he could feel his own. It was easy to be undone by the sensation of someone else in your head, and this, in Charles’s perhaps excessive experience, was even more true where sex was involved.

Erik broke this kiss, planting rough, biting kisses on Charles’s jawline instead. “Safeword?” he hissed, applying a hint of pressure to Charles’s thrumming pulse.

Charles laughed, but his cock felt swollen, full, desperate in his trousers. “You’ll know if I want you to stop,” he said, smiling. Into Erik’s mind, Charles pressed images of Erik stopping, stepping back, letting go.

Unsure, Erik’s grip in Charles’s hair loosened for just a moment before Charles let the images fade.

“See?”

Understanding swept through Erik. He hadn’t slept with a telepath before, Charles realized. Interesting.

Energy coursed back through Erik; Charles hadn’t realized how much Erik’s muscles had softened in response to his images. Again, Erik resumed the iron cage trapping Charles against the wall. This time, Erik pressed his hips into Charles, grinding them together. Goosebumps prickled down both their arms, but Charles wasn’t sure who had originated the feeling. Images flooded Charles’s mind, and he let Erik see: Erik choked him as they fucked ruthlessly over the desk, each thrust rattling Charles’s bones and bringing him to the edge of orgasm.

Erik stepped back, a hint of a smile on his lips. “So eager,” Erik said, dropping his hand from Charles’s throat. “Too eager.”

Charles groaned in frustration even as his arousal heightened. If Erik ever spoke to him like this outside this room, Charles wouldn’t tolerate it without protest. But here, in this context, it made Charles desperate.

Charles reached up to Erik’s wrist, still caught in his hair, and piercing gray eyes followed the motion. “Next time,” Erik warned, his voice gravelly with his increasing need, “you wear metal bracelets.”

A whimper escaped Charles at the thought of Erik using his powers to restrain him, and Erik smiled hungrily as the thought spilled into his mind.

Erik leaned forward, sucking Charles’s neck hard enough to leave a mark. This aroused Charles in a way he could not explain, and he took perverse pleasure in the thought of someone asking where the mark came from. Erik grazed the tender flesh with his teeth, his free hand falling to his cock through his pants as if to stifle an orgasm from coming too soon.

“What do you want?” Erik growled against his neck.

Another advantage of telepathy during sexual play? Charles had no choice but to keep pace with his arousal.

“Fuck me,” Charles rasped. “Choke me.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?” Erik’s hand returned to Charles’s throat, and Charles tilted his chin back to maximize exposure. “Did no one teach you any manners?”

Good god! This power play was driving Charles mad. Never before had he had anyone dominate him like this—he hadn’t wanted to. But right now, in this back room of the mansion, where he could feel the echoes of their friends at the very periphery of his mind, he wanted nothing more.

“Please fuck me,” Charles moaned, planting his legs as far apart as Erik’s presence would allow. “Please, Erik. Please choke me.”

Erik’s hand slipped from Charles’s hair, falling to the button of his own pants. Erik tightened his grip on Charles’s neck as he undid the button and zipper one-handed. Charles’s pants fell open at the same time, and he realized Erik was using his power to grip the metal. Charles whined aloud in utter desperation, showing Erik that it hurt—hurt!—how much he needed to cum.

Suddenly, Erik’s whole body was pressed against Charles, every part of him feeling like steel cable. Fingertips dug into Charles’s neck, and he wondered if they would leave bruises.

Erik gritted his teeth as he thrust his clothed erection against Charles, punctuating his words. “You. Cum. When. I. Let. You.”

Erik talked a big game, but Charles had a front-row seat to his unraveling thoughts. This would be hard and fast, with not nearly enough teasing. They had become creatures of instinct as arousal clouded their senses, only a thread of dignity preventing them from rutting against each other like animals in heat.

Charles took a deep breath—Erik practiced at choke-play it seemed, allowing Charles adequate breaths while preserving that delicious light-headed dizziness—trying to extricate his mind from the tangle of them together. Instead, he got a lungful of Erik, his breath, his aftershave, his sweat. In retaliation, Charles slipped his hands beneath Erik’s loosened waistband, digging his short fingernails into the flesh of Erik’s hips. Erik sucked in a tight breath through his teeth.

Erik took one step back and the room seemed to triple in size. Erik had withdrawn completely, leaving Charles against the cool wall, legs planted wide, pants askew on his hips. Charles lamented that he wasn’t bound, if only because he was reliant on his own strength to keep himself upright.

A smile quirked across Charles’s face as he registered Erik’s thoughts. Erik was deliberately counting the nails in the studs that made up the walls of this room, an unfamiliar take on a familiar ritual: orgasm delay.

Erik realized his thoughts had become less private, and his eyes flashed to Charles, full of threat and full of promise. The effect was more potent now that his lips were swollen and red from their kisses, now that the shape of his erection was visible in his underwear where his pants were undone.

“If you’re so goddamn desperate, touch yourself,” Erik spat, leaning on the edge of the desk. He might’ve seemed at-ease if it weren’t for his white knuckles.

Slowly at first, Charles slipped his hand into his underwear. He hovered there, a feather touch on his rigid cock, savoring the build-up and taunting Erik with heavy-lidded eyes. How much would it take before nearby metal vibrated with the strength of Erik’s need?

“You’re a fucking tease,” Erik managed. If he gripped the desktop any harder, he would crush it between his fingers.

There was only so much self-control Charles could muster. He encircled his cock with his hand, spreading pre-cum from the tip with a measured stroke, and his knees almost buckled. Charles took a deep, shuddering breath and looked back up at Erik. Erik’s eyes had closed, and his head was turned away. Thick cords of muscle stood out in his neck, betraying his clenched jaw.

“Look at me. You fucking asked for this,” Charles snapped.

When he did, Erik’s eyes were black. “For your sake,” he growled, “so you can take me.”

Now Charles was really performing, thrusting into his hand and moaning softly, tugging at his balls with his free hand. Of course, as performative as it was, it was effective, and he felt as if he could cum at the slightest provocation. Charles swallowed his thick saliva, his breath catching in his throat.

“Did I give you permission to fucking cum?” Erik said, his voice ice.

As if Erik had struck him, Charles froze, his belly tightening as he rode his practiced edge.

“What I wouldn’t give for some handcuffs,” Erik continued, his hands shoving his underwear down. He pulled a condom and some lube out of his pocket, and Erik’s hands trembled as he prepared himself. “Take your fucking pants off.”

Moving to comply, Charles teased: “Carry those around just in case?”

Erik cast him a withering gaze. “After the images you’ve put in my head for the past few weeks, you expect me to not be prepared?” Raising an eyebrow to stifle any response from Charles, he cast the condom wrapper aside. “I thought I told you to take your pants off.”

Heart in his throat, Charles scrambled out of his pants. He had barely stepped free when Erik grabbed him and shoved him toward the desk. Charles caught himself on the desktop with his hands, and they both gasped when Erik’s cock slid against his bare ass. Erik spread Charles’s ass almost gently before applying to lube the puckered hole. Erik’s need was so overwhelming that Charles almost missed the hesitation—had Charles done this before?

__Please, please, please. Yes. You won’t hurt me.__ Charles couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t answer the unspoken question aloud, but those phrases played on repeat in his mind loud enough for both of them to hear.

Erik understood. He pushed his cock into Charles, keeping an achingly slow pace, but even then the stretch threatened to be too much. They groaned in unison, Erik persisting in the merciful pace until he had sunk to the hilt. Erik stilled, allowing them both a moment to grow accustomed to the feeling.

“God you’re fucking __huge__,” Charles managed. Erik had split him open, and while it should have hurt, Charles just wanted more.

Erik hazarded a bit of motion, and Charles moaned, feeling as if Erik might reach his belly button from the inside. “And you’re fucking tight.” Erik’s hand fell upon Charles’s cock, toying with the sensitive area under the head. “You’re such a cock-hungry slut.”

Why in god’s name wasn’t he moving? Charles pushed back against him, hoping he would get the idea. Still, Erik shivered with the effort of holding back.

Fine. If he was going to be like that, Charles would simply take his own pleasure. Decisively, he grabbed his own cock at the base, stroking in time with Erik’s teasing. Charles half expected Erik to seize his wrist, restrain him from touching himself at all. Instead, Erik braced himself against the desk and thrust savagely; Charles felt the shock in his teeth as the desk crashed against the wall.

An absolutely wanton moan hung in the air—Charles’s own, he realized, half a second later—and Charles tasted the twang of blood.

“You made me bite my tongue,” Charles spat, and it would’ve sounded more threatening if ‘tongue’ had been enunciated instead of moaned.

Charles continued to stroke his cock as Erik started up a rhythm of bone-rattling thrusts. The combination made him light-headed, and he careened towards an unmistakable point-of-no-return.

“__Fuck__, Erik,” he groaned, making every effort to wait for permission. If none was forthcoming, however, it would be beyond his control.

The effort of holding back began to manifest physically, and Charles clenched around Erik’s cock. The pleasure/pain sensation washed over both of them simultaneously before dissolving into heightening desperation.

Hissing as if in pain, Erik wrapped a hand around Charles’s throat. “Just a bit longer,” he said, applying pressure to make his point clear, “I know you can.”

And then all at once, Charles’s fantasy images were reality. The sound of the desk pounding against the wall was undoubtedly audible throughout the whole wing of the mansion. Their breaths built into a ragged symphony, punctuated by voiceless curses and wordless sounds. As Erik began to lose control, his hand fell from Charles’s cock to the desk for support.

Their pleasure blended together until it was impossible to tell one from the other. Charles clutched the desk like a life raft, trying to ground himself as carnal passion threatened to sweep him away. The careful control he kept over his telepathy slipped away, causing him to both project his feelings freely and read Erik deeply in a way that exceeded their established boundaries.

Erik’s orgasm built steadily. With practiced control, Erik released his inhibitory measures, expertly reading Charles’s body to try and maximize their pleasure. Of course, it helped that Erik’s cock was hitting Charles in all the right places.

Charles tightened again, involuntarily, but to both of their benefits. Erik groaned, and his thoughts were only a bit more coherent: __Close.__

Orgasm crashed around them like a tidal wave. Charles gasped for air, for a long moment unsure whether the pleasure originated from himself, or Erik, or both. A moment later, Erik’s thrusts deepened, and Charles felt Erik’s forceful exhales against the back of his neck. Pleasure crested again before Charles had a chance to recover from what he now realized was his own orgasm. Charles whimpered as he went boneless in Erik’s arms, overstimulated twitches wracking his thighs as Erik thrust through his pleasure.

Sweating and feeling like a tangled mass of limbs, they slid to the floor. Charles’s body felt like gelatin, and he couldn’t have remained on his feet if he wanted to. They panted, leaning against the desk, when Erik started to laugh.

Sated, sleepy, and breathless, Charles didn’t immediately recognize the humor. “What?”

“I don’t remember the last time my first time with someone required a safe word.”

Charles frowned, feeling defensive. “It didn’t __have__ to be kinky, I just thought we were both enjoying—”

Erik’s deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, cutting Charles off. “I did enjoy it, Charles. In fact, I think you should take orders from me more often.”

“Mmm,” Charles said, trying to hide his smirk by wiping his face with his hand. “Yes, well, it seems to me your expertise is limited to the bedroom.”

“Closet,” Erik corrected.

Charles shook his head, surveying the damage to the tiny room. “Speaking of, I suppose we should tidy ourselves before someone comes to investigate the racket.”

Erik tossed Charles his underwear and pants. “No jokes about coming out of the closet,” Erik warned.

Charles grinned, getting to his feet.

Erik sighed, standing to gather his own clothes. “If you can stand, I haven’t done my job properly.”

Pretending to consider it, Charles answered. “Perhaps you are right. Shall you give it another try tonight? My room?”

“Yes, __Professor__, perhaps I can improve my marks.”

Before Charles could make any comment about how much the professor comment turned him on, he became aware of another presence coming down the hall toward them. Silently holding a finger to his lips to shush Erik, Charles hopped on one leg as he tried to pull on his pants.

“Charles?” The voice was muffled by the door and the distance, but easily recognizable as Raven’s.

Charles hurried to smooth his clothes and hair before Raven reached them. Approaching the door, he turned back to Erik. “Stay put until I give you the go-ahead,” Charles said, putting his hand on the doorknob.

“Yes, Professor,” Erik said smugly.

Charles shot him a withering glare as he slipped out of the closet to greet Raven, but he couldn’t resist a parting line as the door closed.

__Perhaps tonight, it’ll be __you__ who gets the punishment.__

Erik’s only response was the tingle of goosebumps down his spine. Promising. Charles didn’t even realize he was grinning until Raven pointed it out to him.

Charles tried to listen to Raven, really. But his mind kept returning to the way Erik had dominated him, and the way he had responded when Charles had promised a role reversal. One thing was for sure: no matter where their political opinions led them, this sort of magnetism, this sort of attraction, would follow them forever. And somehow, Charles was okay with that.


End file.
